Unholy Trinity
by Enide Dear
Summary: What if the Remnants hadn't grown up together at a lab? What if they met as teenagers? Complete, shameless Lozziness
1. Chapter 1

Title: Unholy Trinity I  
>Author: Enide Dear<br>Pairing: Remnants  
>Rating: will vary, but there will be explicit Remnantcest, violence, mild bdsm, murder and prostitution. So just another cute Remnant series, neh? *grin*<p>

Summary: What if the Remnants hadn't grown up together at a lab? What if they met as teenagers? Complete, shameless Lozziness

The sight of the pale body lying amongst the garbage in the alley like someone's thrown away leftovers made Loz gasped with a fright that threatened to steal his breath forever. He didn't need Mother's prompting to rush over there, his own instincts where enough; this was the Special One, the one he had been searching for ever since he first heard Mother's voice in his head…but it was also his brother.

Throwing away trash and clearing out the dirty body, Loz could see that something was wrong with the Special One, very wrong. He was too skinny under the rags that barely covered his body, even though the face still showed traces of baby fat around the cheeks, so cold and shivering he was almost blue. That was probably why he had crawled up here, amongst the trash cans against a slum bar; some faint warmth leaked through the thin walls. But far from enough to keep anyone alive in this cold weather.

Still, that wasn't the worse. Even as Loz lifted up his brother and cradled him in his arms, the Special One didn't wake. Or maybe he was awake; his eyes were open but they were rolled up so far behind the eyelids there were almost only white showing. Spastic twitches rattled the lean limbs far worse than the cold shivers and there were awful, hurting noises coming from the back of his throat. Hands with broken, bleeding nails clawed uselessly in the air.

Loz almost panicked. Mother's voice had told him to find the Special One and to protect him no matter what, and he had been looking for *years* but now he finally found him it seemed he was too late. What if his brother died, now, right here in his arms?  
>The thought was too horrible to even contemplate, and Loz wasn't a very thinking person anyway. He was a doing person.<p>

Holding the Special One as close as he could he hurried down the alley, out on the street. Few people were around in this weather and those that were didn't pay him any attention. Paying attention to people in Loz's size wasn't a recipe for a long and healthy life in the slums.

Picking a door at random, Loz knocked insistently. He could have easily kicked it down, but then the wind and the rain would get right in; he wasn't very clever, but he wasn't *that* stupid. The door opened, just a tiny bit, and an old man peered out at him over the barrel of a gun.

"What do you want?" He asked with equal suspicion and fright.

"We need your house." Now Loz did kick the door, enough for it to slam into the man's face and make him drop the gun. Loz's hand shot out and grabbed the old man's neck; it snapped like a twig under his fingers before the old man had time for anything but look surprised.

Shoving the corpse aside, Loz stepped inside and hurriedly closed the door. Most likely nobody dared paying attention, but there were no point in taking stupid risks. He had to protect the Special One now.

The shed he'd taken over was no more than one room, bedroom and kitchen combined, which was good. No one could be hiding anywhere. There was a filthy bed in one corner, an old fashioned stove with a few lumps of coal for cooking and warmth, a pantry, a table and one chair, and that was it. Loz laid down his brother on the tiny bed, pulling the blankets up over his shivering frame and then hurried to put a fire in the stove. He figured if he burned everything in the shack except the bedding, he'd have fuel for almost a week. That was good, too.  
>Even better was the pantry, there were tea and sugar and hard, dry bread and a few cans of meat, and some soggy-looking vegetables. He didn't have to leave the Special One for days, should it come to that.<p>

Warming water on the stove, he stirred down tea and lots of sugar; the Special One gulped down the liquid, but didn't wake up. He was still wheezing with pain, mumbling about 'Reunion' and 'Geostigma' and other words that meant nothing to Loz. It was harder to get food down his throat; Loz had to mash the vegetables and make the bread into a mushy porridge before he could press it in between his brother's teeth and make him swallow. The meat was even harder; finally Loz had to chew it himself first before the Special One could eat it.

He wiped down the dirty limbs with a few rags and some hot water, frowning at the many cuts and bruises. The Special One's life had been harder than his, perhaps because his brother was much smaller. People always picked on the smaller ones. The skin was getting warmer, but his brother didn't wake up and Loz didn't know what else to do. He wished fervently for a Potion, or even a Cure materia but he didn't know where he could get any, and he wouldn't have dared leave the Special One ever if he did.

And now….there was nothing he could do but wait. Loz wasn't *good* at waiting. It tore his heart out to see his brother lay there in pain and not being able to do anything about it, not being able to do…anything at all. Each new whimper made him want to tear his hair. He prodded his brain for Mother's advice, but the voice only said what it always said: *Find the special one. Protect him with your life*. It didn't say *how* he was going to do that, and that just wasn't fair!

With a whimper almost as pained as the Special One's he decided all he could do was wait. And if he was going to wait, he might as well get some rest so he would be ready if anything happened. And he might help keep his brother warm at the same time, so it was ok. Pulling off his clothes, he pushed a few more coals into the sulking fire and crept down under the covers, between the Special One and the world. With his arms around his brother, he could relax a bit; nobody could come and take him away during the night. He'd found the Special One like Mother wanted. Maybe everything would finally be alright. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Unholy Trinity II  
>Author: Enide Dear<br>Pairing: Remnants  
>Rating: will vary, but there will be explicit Remnantcest, violence, mild bdsm and prostitution<br>Summary: What if the Remnants hadn't grown up together at a lab? What if they met as teenagers?

Loz woke up by the steady, normal breaths tickling his chest and the lack of twitching limbs. The Special One's head lay on his shoulder, and although Loz could only see a small sliver of his eyes he could see that his brother was awake and aware once more, even though his gaze was lost somewhere far away as if he was thinking very hard.

"It has stopped now." The Special One said with a strange sigh that was both relieved and filled with loss.

"What has stopped?" Loz asked. Very carefully he started to stroke the silver head, feeling very, very happy that the Special One was awake again. He blinked away a few tears; he hadn't failed.

The Special One didn't answer his question, but didn't move away from the caress. Still without looking up at Loz he said:

"You took care of me." His voice quavered, just a little.

"Mother told me to find you and to protect you."

The reaction was frightening; the Special One spun around in the bed, quick as a snake, green eyes ablaze as he grabbed Loz shoulders, pressing him down. Loz felt a jolt of fear; the light in his brother's eyes was as piercing as a blade.

"Mother speaks to you to?" The Special One hissed, his nails digging into Loz's skin. "What does she say? *What does she say?*" He almost screamed.

"She…she told me to find you," Loz couldn't stop the tears. "She told me to find the Special One, and to protect him, and she told me that you were the Special One, but I already knew you were my brother when I saw you, and that's all she ever told me!"

His brother seemed to relax a little, but a confused wrinkle appeared between his eyes.

"She called me the Special One?" He asked softly. Loz nodded; he still didn't dare to move. His brother shook his head, bewildered. "But why does she push all these visions into my head and so little into yours? If we are brothers we could have shared. I wouldn't have to have these attacks. It's not fair."

A sudden twitch of pain went through the lithe body and the Special One gasped with pain; horrified at the sudden attack, Loz grabbed him and pulled him down on his chest once more, protecting his brother with his body. The Special One twitched and winced with pain, his limbs once more out of control.

"What is happening? Tell me what's happening! I can't protect you if you don't!" Loz begged, but this time the seizure didn't last long.

"No…it's Mother." The Special One moaned, clutching his head. "I shouldn't be questioning her. I'm wrong to do so. She knows best!"

Mother was doing this? She'd never punished Loz this way, and he'd been saying 'not fair' as late as last night. Then again, he wasn't the Special One. There was nothing he could think of doing but hold the trembling body close, stroke his head, try to say things like it would all be better, even though he wasn't sure it would. He couldn't protect the Special One against Mother.

His little brother sighed with relief as the pain died away and he relaxed again against Loz.

"Tell me what to do," Loz pleaded. "Tell me what to do and I will do it, I promise. I'll protect you."

"Hmm." The Special One slid a hand up over Loz's face, following the heavy jaw, the angular cheekbones, down the strong neck. The touch was light but demanding, as if judging if the strength found there would be enough. Loz desperately hoped so; if the Special One didn't want him here, what would he do? His entire purpose in life was tied up with his brother; cast away he'd be nothing. Nothing at all.

The hand continued down, over his chest with the chiselled wedge between the pecs, the hard muscles of the belly, the narrow hips and heavily muscled thigh. Loz wanted to say that he wasn't fully grown yet, that he'd be bigger and stronger, but the strange gleam in his brother's eyes made him keep quiet. The touch was making him tremble now, he wasn't sure if he was supposed to enjoy it this way.

The Special One smiled at him, a teasing smile that made Loz's heart rate speed up even more.

"You should smile more," he said before he could think it through properly. "It makes you even more beautiful."

"Hm." His brother nuzzled up to him, warm, soft lips pressing against his as a lithe leg swung over his hip to straddle him. He could feel a hot, hard rod pressing against his belly, and his own cock was really, really hard where it poked up between smooth slim thighs. "You'd better make me smile, then."

Loz gasped as the Special One moved down, impaling himself slightly on Loz's cock; it was so hot and tight and it felt so damn *good*, but...

"Am I not hurting you?" He winced.

Again, the Special One didn't answer his question – it seemed he rarely did.

"You've never done this before, have you?" He wriggled down a bit more, his jade eyes clouding with pleasure.

"No. Have you?" In fact, Loz couldn't remember ever feeling this good at all; the mere sight of silver hair and pale limbs made his body react in a way he'd never known it to do before. Instinctively, his hips thrust upwards, but a sharp slap on his thigh made him sink back again; it wasn't him deciding the pace here.  
>That was as it should be too.<p>

"I think...maybe." The Special One did answer this question. For a second his youthful face seemed to grow darker, stronger, different and eyes that seemed a thousand years old and very scary looked out from his face – and then it was gone, and his brother was back. "In another life, perhaps." He shook off the sudden gloom with a twitch of the head and smiled again, even more teasing than before. He sat up and leaned back, making Loz cry out in pure bliss as he took all of him inside.

Fingernails traced an almost bloody track over Loz chest as his brother started moving, pain and pleasure mingling on his face as he sat a harsh, needy pace, riding Loz as if this was something he'd been needing for a long, long time even though they'd never met before. Waves of pure lust rattled Loz; he wanted to pull the Special One down, to bury himself even further inside him, to make them one *now* but his brother was more patient than he was, and in control. Loz had to bite his lip not to come too soon, because he had a feeling the Special One would be *very* mad at him if he did.  
>His brother's mewling noises where getting harsher, more demanding, his movements faster until he came, all over Loz belly and chest and Loz could finally let go as well.<p>

The Special One let himself fall down into the sticky, sweaty embrace as if certain Loz would catch him, which he did. The smaller body was trembling again, but now it was good trembles; Loz felt the same way. For a while they just lay there, remembering how to breathe properly, bodies tingling with delightful exhaustion. Loz knew he's never felt this good before, ever in his life.

"What's your name?" The Special One mumbled against his shoulder.

Loz lifted his arm; there was a bar code tattooed on the pale flesh.

"See, this looks like an 'L' and this zero could be an 'o' and that strange blur in the end might be a 'z'. So I'm guessing my name is Loz."

"Loz. I like that." The Special One sat up and showed his own arm, another bar code, this one longer, as if he was a later experiment. "We should take what they've done to us and force it to be ours. Turn it against them."

"So...what is your name?" Loz squinted at the bar code.

The Special One shrugged.

"It's not important for me to have a name. As long as I do Mother's bidding, that's all that matters."

"But...you must have a name! Can I make one for you?" The bar code made easy letters for him, kind of like looking for shaped in the clouds.

The Special One seemed taken aback, as if anyone caring enough to give him a name was a strange thought.

"I guess...I guess it won't much matter. Sure. What would you call me?"

"K – 4 – 0 – 4 – J...Kadaj. I think that is your name. Kadaj. Is it ok?"

Kadaj smiled, and ran his fingers through Loz's hair.

"It will do."


	3. Chapter 3

"What do we do now?" Loz asked. Kadaj was getting better, but he was still weak and he spent a lot of time lying in bed, thinking. They were quickly running out of food and fuel.

"For one thing, we need to get rid of the corpse. I think I heard rats gnawing on it last night. Then we need to get money. We need food, coal, maps, weapons…some sort of vehicles." Kadaj ticked it off on his fingers.

"Money is easy. Or I could just rob someone to get those things for you." Loz shrugged, but Kadaj shook his head, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"No. We can't afford attention. One day…one day the world will bow to us and fear us, but right now we need to be careful. You need to get a job."

"A job?" That's what he needed the Special One for; he couldn't have thought of that himself. "You mean like…" he thought hard, "raising chocoboes, or selling flowers, or working in a bar? I've never done those things."

"You are big and strong, and this is the slums." Kadaj waved away his worries. "There must be something you can do, lifting crates or something. Just don't do anything to put you in danger."

"But then I'll be away from you." Loz didn't like that one bit.

"I know, but there's no helping that." Kadaj didn't seem to like it either. "Get rid of that body, and go see what you can find."

Packing the by now rather mushy and smelly body down a big brown carton he found, Loz could dump it in a random alley and be rid of it with a minimal of fuss. He wandered around the Wall Market, feeling edgy. He couldn't be both here and at home protecting Kadaj, which made him think that perhaps something was missing. Or *someone*. If he'd been cloned double, one of him could have stayed with Kadaj…but that was a weird thought and it made his head hurt.

There were the restaurant, the pharmacy, the inn, but they all took one look at him and declared loudly that they didn't need any more employees. The clothes shop had all kinds of soft and nice things, but as he accidently tore one velvety –thingy by just holding it up, he didn't dare to even ask.

He almost got a job at the old man's place, with the tank and all the scrap metal, but unfortunately, the man had no money. So even if it would have been fun, it was no use.

There was a large tent at the other end of the Wall Market, and from inside the familiar sound of punches and cheers and fighting could be heard. Intrigued, Loz pushed his way through the throng of people.

The tent seemed to be a training facility of some kind; there were weights and sandbags stored away at the corners and lots of the people in here were bigger and more muscular than he was. But to Loz it was obvious those muscles were for show; they might look good, but theses weren't fighters.

The two men beating the crap out of one another at the raised podium in the middle were fighters, however. Their bodies weren't as perfectly clean cut as the posers; but they could move and kick and throw punches, dodge and take a hit when needed. A third man in a striped shirt was moving along with them, in the background, but was apparently not in the fight. People kept screaming at the two fighters, and some of them were making brisk business with money.

One of the fighters went down, his face bleeding and a few ribs seemed to be cracked. He didn't get up, and the crowd cheered, although some seemed disappointed. More money were exchanged as the man in the striped shirt stepped up and declared the standing man the winner, and he was handed a big wad of cash in a bloody hand.

"Bog Bro is still the winner!" The striped – shirt declared. "Is there anyone who dares to challenge him? 500 gils is the set price money!"

"I do," Loz said quickly, his voice carrying loudly over the suddenly quiet tent. "I just need to knock him out, right? I can do that. Easy."

A chorus of rather mean laughter rose as they saw the pale youngster, barely out of his teens, eying the experienced fighter.

"The amateur fighting isn't until after four a clock," the striped-shirted one said somewhere between a sneer and trying to be kind. "Come back later."

Loz frowned at the gang of lanky teens and youngsters that were warming up in another end of the tent, sparring with one another or testing weights. The air blurred as he moved, and the young fighters never knew what hit them; one second they were standing, getting ready for fighting, and the next they were laying in heaps on the floor, groaning in pain.

The tent crowd suddenly got very quiet.

"There, I'm all done with them." Loz shrugged. "Will you give me the 500 gils now? I need the money."

"Um…" stripe-shirt hesitated, but shook his head. "No money in the amateur games. You have to fight Big Bro' here. Wait!" He held up a hand as Loz made a small motion to move. "You want to fight? Then we'll do it the right way. Take of your shirt."

Loz did. The betting was starting to speed up all around him.

"Are you carrying any weapons or materia?"

"No."

"Alright. Do you know the rules?"

"Rules?" Rules when fighting? Who'd ever heard of such a thing?

"No weapons, not materia, and when one of you ain't moving any longer the fight's over. Those are the *only* rules. You still want to do this, son?"

"I'm not your son." Oh, no, he was Mother's son. And it was time to prove that.

"Here, Kadaj!"Beaming with pride, Loz stepped inside their hideout, carrying take away food boxes and water bottles in his hands and a number of rolled up papers under his arm. "Look what I got!"

He placed the bounty on the still surviving table and Kadaj frowned at it.

"How did you afford all this?" He rolled out the papers that turned out to be maps. "You didn't steal it, did you? Did anyone see you?"

"I didn't steal it, I bought it. I got a job." Loz rubbed at a bruise that swelled on his jaw. "I'm a boxer!"

"Really?" Kadaj looked up, surprised and delighted. "That's perfect."

"Yeah, 'cause I can learn and get better at fighting, and earn money. And they got a gym, and I can use it as much as I want to. And the fights don't last that long, so I won't be away from you very much."

"Did you get hurt?" Kadaj had opened a box with food and was hungrily stuffing rice and scrimps in his mouth.

"Not much." Loz opened another box, noodles and chicken, but then he frowned. "But they got all kinds of rules, you know. Stupid rules. Like, did you know I wasn't allowed to kill the opponent? They didn't tell me. How was I to know?"

Kadaj shrugged. There were no way to know things like that.

After eating, Kadaj sat down with the maps, making notes and measuring things. Loz watched him for a while, but it had been a long day.

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

"Not now. Be quiet. I need to think."

Loz went to bed alone, but he didn't go to sleep. Instead he lay still, watching his clever brother working with maps and pens and brain. He could almost *see* the thoughts spinning in Kadaj's head, and it made him feel proud and safe. Kadaj was so clever; he'd make whatever plans Mother had come true, Loz didn't doubt it. And he'd do everything he could to help his brother.

He wished there were something he could do to wipe away the strange strain on Kadaj's face, the remorseless need that drove him on and on, far beyond when he would have needed rest, but if there were something he could do to help with that, then Loz didn't know what it was.

He was relieved when Kadaj finally yawned, stretched, and killed the light. In the dark he shuffled over to the bed and nudged Loz over until he could cuddle down on the warm place where Loz had been. Loz put his arms around the slim body and held it close. He could feel it tremble with exhaustion.

"Loz…." In the dark Kadaj's voice sounded small, reminding Loz that cruel and clever and dangerous as his little brother was, he was still Loz's *little* brother. "If you…if you didn't hear Mother's voice…would I still be your brother?"

"Of course." What kind of question was that?

Kadaj fidgeted in the bed as if it was suddenly too small, or he was too restless to sleep. When he finally spoke, he sounded even smaller, and he clung to Loz's chest.

"And if I wasn't the Special One…do you love Kadaj as much as the Special One?"

*That* was a weird question. But it wasn't in Loz nature to be able to lie to anyone, not even himself.

"I know Kadaj. I don't know anything about the Special One except that you are him, too. So I must love you more than I love the Special One."

The sudden chance was instantaneous and made him howl straight out. It wasn't a physical pain because he could take that, he was built to handle that. Instead it was as if someone had reached into his mind and soul and pulled out something essential, something vital.

He felt utterly, completely alone. Worthless, cast side, meaningless. It was despair, cold enough to kill. It was far worse a pain than anything he'd even experienced before. Mother had left him.

"Loz! Loz, no! You can't say that, you can't mean it! Mother must be most important of all! Say it! Say it!" He was vaguely aware Kadaj was shaking him, but it all seemed so futile, his heart would stop because there were no will left to drive it…Kadaj's eyes was filled with horror.

"Don't leave me! I can't do this alone!" His little brother hissed in fear.

"I…the Special One is…most important…" He didn't dare say anything else, didn't dare think it, didn't dare *feel* anything else.

The loss filled as quickly as it had been gorged into his heart, leaving him panting and crying with a throat that felt raw and bleeding.

Kadaj held him until the trembles died away.

"I'm sorry….I'm so sorry…" Loz voice was very hoarse when he finally could speak. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No." Kadaj sounded tired. "You shouldn't have."

"The Special One is more important than anyone of us."

"He is."

"Kadaj…."

"Yes?"

"I felt so *lonely*. I couldn't feel you or Mother or the Special One, or anyone. Do you think…is this how humans feel *all the time*?"

Kadaj didn't answer, but Loz thought he knew.

"Almost makes me feel sorry for them."


	4. Chapter 4

There were several showers in the contestants' locker room and Loz usually used them after a fight. They were free after all, and he liked to get the blood and whatever sweat he'd worked up off him before going home to Kadaj. The other fighters ignored him or avoided him anyway, which was how he liked it, so he usually had the showers to himself. Today a few of the guys were talking about going out and get a beer after the fight. Loz listened with half an ear whiles he was undressing.

"I can't." One of them said sullenly. "I'm broke."

"What? But you won your fight yesterday. How the Hell can you be broke today?" Someone else said.

"I know," grinned a third one. "You spent them all on that new prostitute at the Honey Bee Inn, didn't you?"

"Must be a damn expensive whore!" The second one laughed.

"He's not a whore!" The first one blushed fiercely. "Well…maybe he is. But he's not like the others. He's….more of an escort, really…"

That made the others burst out in rather cruel laughter, but Loz had heard enough, he wasn't interested in buying sex anyway. He could feel eyes following him as he walked naked into the shower and turned it up, but ignored them too. He'd beaten them all, at one point or another, and knew he could easily do so again, even if they ganged up on him. There were only one new guy, and though he was lean and muscular, he was far too skinny to be a threat.

"What's the name of that 'escort' anyway?" The words came faintly over the running water.

"Calls himself Yazoo."

Loz turned up the shower even more, trying to block out the stupid gabbling and enjoyed the hot water running down him, the sense of getting really clean. He wondered if he could sneak in Kadaj here to use the showers, they were far more comfortable than making do with water warmed on the stove. He doubted anyone would try to stop him if he did so.

"Hi. Loz, right?" a voice behind him said, and Loz spun around.

It was the new guy, a small, skinny, trim youth perhaps two years younger than Loz. He was eyeing Loz up and down with a glint in his brown eyes that Loz recognised. When Kadaj looked at him like that it always led to sex.

"I don't sign autographs." Kadaj had forbidden him to put his name on any piece of paper, ever.

"That's ok. I wanted something else." The guy wasn't subtle, that's for sure. Although standing naked in the shower, it would have been stupid of him to try to hide what he wanted anyway.

Loz started to rinse the shampoo out of his hair to give himself time to think. He'd never fucked with anyone who wasn't Kadaj. It could be interesting.

Hands slid up his chest, warmer and more callused but weaker than Kadaj's and the guy smiled up at him, even though he seemed a bit taken back by the cat eyes looking down on him. But it was too late to pull out now; Loz grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around so his back was against the wall; grabbing one thigh he lifted it high up on his own hip, keeping the man pinned with the other hand. The guy was breathing quickly now, equal amounts of fear and arousal coursing through him. He moaned and pressed against Loz and….

Nothing.

Surprised, Loz realised he felt nothing at all. With Kadaj all it took was one look, sometimes not even that, but with this guy all naked and soapy he didn't feel a thing. Not even the slightest spark or excitement.

It was a bit like those nude posters of women that someone kept nailing up at the locker room; they didn't affect him at all. Except perhaps make him a bit nauseous, as there seemed to be a lot of stuff on them that Loz really didn't want to see, and other things that he *did* want to see where missing.

But this was a guy! And he wasn't ugly or something. But he still…didn't do anything for Loz.

He tried grinding against him, using a lot more force than he would have done with Kadaj, but he might as well have tried to hump a chair.

He pushed the guy away; surprised the man stumbled down.

"Get out of here." Loz snarled and the man ran.

The incident rattled him; he hurried to finish the shower and threw his clothes on. Instead of taking a detour to pick up food or supplies he took the shortest road; he walked quickly, pushing anyone who got in his way aside, fear and anger rushing through him. He hadn't felt anything. He hadn't got hard, hadn't...  
>Loz started running.<p>

Kadaj looked up in surprise as Loz came barging through the door; his older brother's face was taut with fright and bewilderment, his usually well-kept hair barely dry and hanging around his ears.

"Kadaj...get naked. Please."Despite the plea the words came out almost as a growl, and Kadaj blinked. Loz always did as he was told. He'd never demanded anything of Kadaj before.

Hesitating for a second, Kadaj saw the raw fear and hurt in Loz eyes and shrugged. Putting down his pen he stood slowly and pulled the sweater over his head, muzzling his fine hair. Kicking of his shoes, he pulled off his pants, standing naked with his arms crossed over his slim chest, frowning.

"What's this about..." he started, but didn't get any further before Loz ran over to him and fell to his knees, burying his face against Kadaj's belly and rubbing his teary face against the smooth skin.

"I was afraid...I'd lost it...but with you..." His mouth was just above Kadaj's groin and the warm breath and almost-touching lips was distracting Kadaj from whatever Loz was talking about. Biting his lip not to moan, Kadaj grabbed Loz face and turned it up to meet his greedy eyes.

"Later. Now, as you are down there anyway..."

Loz smiled back and his tears dried up quickly. Rubbing his face against Kadaj's hardening shaft he started to lick it, sucking hard at the top, wanting and needing Kadaj around him *now* to prove to himself he hadn't lost it.

Kadaj pushed him back, down into the chair, and climbed on top of him; Loz barely had time to open his own pants and get his cock out – rock hard now - for his greedy brother.

Greedy as Kadaj was, this evening he finally had to call Loz off; it seemed the elder brother was almost frantic in his desire to fuck tonight, wanting Kadaj over and over again, eating the slender, strong body with his eye and mouth over and over again, wanting to be inside him until Kadaj felt almost raw.

"Enough now." Kadaj pushed at Loz broad chest as he leaned over him once more. "What's with you today?"

With a sigh Loz sank down, burying his face in the bed's pillow. Unable to look at Kadaj, he told what had happened.

"Huh. How strange." Kadaj frowned. "I guess it's not very important though."

"You don't think so?" Loz dared to look up. "Maybe I'm...flawed or something."

"I don't know. I've never felt anything with others either." Kadaj gathered him up in his arms. "I just thought that was because they forced me. Maybe it's something else. Maybe it's because we're better than humans. We shouldn't have sex with them. It's like...trying to breed a prize chocobo with a common farm chicken."

"Wait..." Loz leaned up on his arm, looking down at Kadaj, worry on his face. "Someone forced you?"

"More than one. It was long ago, I was small...It's not important."

"I will kill them! Tell me who they are, and I will kill them!" Loz was already heaving out of bed but Kadaj grabbed his arm.  
>Small and fragile as he looked compared to Loz's bulk, his grip was iron hard and his smile was very sharp. His eyes shone in the gloom of the slum like emeralds in the dirt.<p>

"Loz...I didn't say I let them live afterwards."


	5. Chapter 5  Killer Queen

More and more people came to watch the fighting. From having been a frowned upon entertainment for the very poorest and considered blood-thirsty and crude, it had now started to attract the more distinguished of the slum's residents. And with them came those who made a living off the dirty wealth that trickled from such people; whores and the likes. The fighting games had turned into a ripe place to pick up customers as testosterone and blood tended to get both fighters and spectators blood coursing hot.

More than one whore of either sex tried to pick up the new shooting star that was Loz, but it was no use; they were either ignored or brusquely turned away.

Loz had accepted Kadaj's explanation – his brother was the Special One after all, so he should know best – and focused on the fighting instead. It was getting more and more of a challenge as the fighters he met got better, more experienced, stronger, but he was growing to the challenge and growing fast. He didn't have time for distractions, and anyway he had Kadaj and that was enough.

Until the day a strange man took a place in the audience, right in the middle of a fight.  
>Loz was vaguely aware of the subtle way the audience attention shifted from the ring to the newcomer, but he was busy fending of attacks and only saw a slim figure in the corner of his eye, pale skin, long emerald green hair hanging of the arm of another man, this one with all the gaudy jewelry and clothes of the slum's upper class.<p>

The pimp wasn't much of interest, but Loz could almost *sense* the way the green haried stranger was staring at him, like a heat wave fixing on him, and it made him uncomfortable. Only Kadaj could made him react so forcefully to just a stare.

Risking a glance over his shoulder, Loz lost his balance. The stranger was…all wrong. All rights. All paradox. He was staring at Loz with almost slack-jawed surprise as if he was seeing something he'd never expected to see and couldn't quite grasp, but to Loz he just looked…strange.

Pale skin, green hair. Slim strong built under clothes designed to show off the body, but dull grey eyes. Tall but withdrawn.

He didn't look like a whore; the clothes he was wearing was unusually covering even if they were tight, revealing nothing whiles implying everything. It was as if he didn't need to ooze sex, just imply it.

The stranger sent too many contradictory signals; Loz didn't know what to do, how to react.

So he was completely unprepared when his opponent hit him square in the face, sending him reeling back and bouncing off the ropes. Snarling he came to his feet, kicking the man back, adrenaline pumping

The fight was over too quick – Yazoo didn't have time to collect his thoughts. As soon as the other fighter went down in a flurry of silver punches, Yazoo was on his feet, hurrying towards the podium, his heart beating fast and a very odd fire burning in his belly.

"Where do you think you are going?" His arm was grabbed, hard, and he was pulled back in to the arms of his client.

Even though it would have been easy just to break free – or break the man's arm - Yazoo pulled himself together with an effort, smiled and didn't struggle. He had a reputation, after all.

"I just want to talk to him."

"No, you don't." His client shook his arm, jealousy burning ugly in his eyes. "I'm not paying you to pick up customers. You're with me today."

Usually, Yazoo wouldn't even have thought of it; yes, perhaps some flirting, some wriggling his ass, but nothing more. But today…he needed to see this boxer closer, and he needed to do so now. There was a strange fire burning in his belly that made logical thinking hard – some need that overrode all other concerns.

"Just…just for a second, please. I'll make it worth your while." He tried pleading when all he really wanted to do was snap the man's neck, all the while smiling pleasantly, seductively and still trying to keep the boxer in sight, but he'd lost him. Where had he gone? He couldn't be gone!

Yazoo didn't even see the slap coming, he was too distracted trying to peer over the heads in the audience. A stinging slap across his face and his head snapped back. Fury and even more fear that he had lost his one chance at finding the boxer, gripped Yazoo's mind; he would kill this man and he didn't care who saw it and…

"Hey, what are you doing?" A big figure loomed out of nowhere and grabbed Yazoo's client's arm, wrenching it away from Yazoo who stumbled backwards. "Leave the fighting to the professionals." Green eyes – eyes that made the fire in Yazoo's belly roar even more – stared unblinking down at the well- dressed man who glared back.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" The man hissed, clutching his bruised arm. "I paid for the whore, and he's mine to do with as I want!"

"I don't care." The boxer rumbled. "I don't care who you are or what you do. Just piss off!" He took a threatening step forward.

"You'll regret this, you bastard!" the man hissed but scurried away.

Yazoo sighed and rubbed his head.

"That was…stupid." He said as the boxer turned towards him. "Do you have any idea who that man is?"

"Someone I could beat up with both hands tied behind me," the boxer shrugged and that said all Yazoo needed to know about him. *Not so bright. But…he has other qualities.*

"There are different types of power, not just physical…oh, never mind." He added with a smile as the boxer frowned. "Thank you for helping me."

"No problem. Are you alright?" The boxer seemed nervous now and he kept throwing furtive glances as Yazoo, frowning as is what he saw didn't quite make sense.

Yazoo had no such doubts. Everything about this man clicked into place in his heart and soul, everything was *right*. And it made his body react….strangely. He needed to get the boxer as his client, now.

"Yes." He smiled faintly and saw the boxer shift uneasy as if about to say something, but immediately changed his mind. "No one's really come to my rescue like that before. Can I buy you a beer or something?"

"I don't know. Um. I should be getting back…" The bigger man fidgeted nervously. He'd changed and showered; that was probably why Yazoo had lost him for a short while.

Yazoo took a step closer and the boxer didn't back away; that was a good sign. Yazoo looked at him, blinking his dull grey eyes – was the man sniffing at him? Well, he'd put on enough perfume to hide his ordinarily –by human standards – strange scent, so that shouldn't be a problem, except now the boxer wrinkled his nose almost minutely. *He* hadn't put on perfume, and though he'd just showered Yazoo could almost taste the cold, clean, dry smell. Oh, he most definitely needed to get this man as his client!

"Don't be silly. My place is just a few blocks from here. I have some beer there. Allow me to show my gratitude." His decisive behaviour and firm words seemed to relax the boxer, whose eyes were still bewildered with conflicting emotions; Yazoo didn't really know why he caused those. It was as if every time the boxer saw something in him that triggered a spark, something else got in the way and smothered it before it could burst into flames.

The bigger man exhaled in an almost child-like wuff, as if deciding something very difficult.

"Alright then." He seemed even more bewildered when Yazoo took his arm but didn't withdraw his. The heaviness of those muscles made Yazoo shiver most pleasantly. "I'm Loz, by the way."

"Yazoo." That made the man flinch.

"*That* Yazoo? I mean, I've heard people talking about you…."

"Yes," Yazoo smiled. "That Yazoo. Is that a problem?" It was amazing to see how people on the street just turned away from the couple as if instinctively sensing trouble not worth messing with.

Loz thought it over and Yazoo reaffirmed his earlier impression. *Average mental capacity – perhaps slightly lower, to be brutally honest.*

"No, I guess it isn't."

*But with other qualities.*

"You live – here?" Loz only gaped at the huge sign saying 'Honeybee Inn'. "This is a brothel."

"It's an expensive brothel, and I'm an expensive prostitute. It's not so bad, not compared to trying to make a living on your own in the streets. Don Corneo's people don't like to compete about clients."

"Corneo?"

"The man who runs the slums? Really, how have you survived this long?" Probably, Yazoo reflected, by being a nobody for all your life. This surge of stardom that boxing had given had come too quickly for Corneo to take care of yet, but it was just a matter of time. It made Yazoo shiver to think of; Corneo had a very decisive way of dealing with people and if Loz behaved to the don as he'd done to the crony earlier…then the boxer's career would be very short indeed. "That man I was with was one of Corneo's people. You should have let me handle him. It's not worth it to make them angry."

"But he was hurting you! I'm not going to…I mean I couldn't…" Loz sighed and pulled his hands through his hair as if his head was hurting him. "Look, I really should be getting home."

"But we're here now. Don't worry, it's just a few beers." Yazoo took his arm again and with the slight look of a man at gun point, Loz followed him into the Honeybee Inn.

No one looked twice after them, of course, as it wasn't in any way unusual to see Yazoo with a new customer. Yazoo led his rather hapless prey further down the corridor to his rooms – his private rooms, where he just took special clients. Loz's eyes got big at the sight of beautiful furniture and plush carpets.

"Here." Yazoo handed him a beer and a new shiver of excitement ran through him as Loz opened the cap with his hand. This was utterly strange, in a very exciting way. Yes, he was a prostitute, he'd had sex for money with lots of men, some beautiful and most not. But none of them had made him feel this…tingly. None of them had made him want to just tear their clothes of and jump them.

No one, in fact, had ever made him horny.

"I've never been at a place like this before." Loz sat down on the couch, still looking around, still throwing nervous glances at Yazoo. "Am I supposed to pay for this?"

Yazoo couldn't help but smile at the almost child-like honesty in the question. Oh, this boxer needed someone to take care of him in a cynical world where pure strength wasn't enough not to be used. And Yazoo vowed to be that person.

"Maybe," he teased, putting down his own bottle. "It depends on what it leads to." He moved closer, pleased to notice Loz's attention fixing on his hips.

"Um…so, what do you charge?"

"It depends. If you don't want anything special, two hundred gils an hour. More if you want to bring a friend, much more if you want to break skin." He crawled up into the couch, up into Loz's lap, delighting in the feel of strong thighs under his.

"You let them do that?" Loz seemed shocked at his words, and utterly uncomfortable with his behaviour. That wouldn't do.

Yazoo shrugged and touched his face, swollen where the punch had hit him.

"So do you. We both sell our bodies and talents for money."

"Yeah, but I'm allowed to hit back!" Loz didn't recoil from the cool touch, but couldn't really meet the grey eyes under violently green hair.

"And I can say no. So what's the difference?"

"Well…I like beating people up." Loz looked away. "Do you…like what you do?"

"Sometimes." Yazoo purred, and rubbed his hips against Loz's, giving no room for doubt. "This time I would very much like it, I think."

"Um, I can't." Loz looked away, blushing fiercely. "It's not that you're not pretty, but…I've tried with others and I can't. I can only do it with my little brother."

The last statement would probably have made most people squick, but to Yazoo it was the first that caused distress. His hand confirmed Loz's words; there were no growing bulge in the boxer's pants.

"I'm sorry." Loz tried to get away. "I told you I should have gone home…" His hand, still holding the beer bottle, slipped as he was trying to remove Yazoo; beer poured all over Yazoo's lap.

"Damn it…" Annoyed at the sticky liquid, Yazoo grabbed a paper towel from the coffee table (kept there for those clients who didn't want to wait until they got to the bedroom) and wiped at it, frowning as he had to pull down the lining of his pants.

He caught Loz's frozen expression as the boxer stared down at the beer-soaked tufts of hair.

"You are silver!" He gasped, gently grabbing Yazoo's hands and removing them to give him a better look. "You really are! But…" He threw a confused glance at the long hair on Yazoo's head.

"Oh, that's just dye." Yazoo stared into green eyes – how could he not have noticed this before? He'd been in hiding for too long. "Your hair…it's the true colour, isn't it?" He asked softly, not really meaning it as a real question. "And your eyes to."

"Of course…what are you doing?" Loz asked a bit frightened as Yazoo reached up to his own eyes.

"I have worn these so long now, I had almost forgotten." Yazoo smiled as he took out his coloured lenses, blinking his real green eyes to wet them.

"You are one of us!" Suddenly Loz threw his arms around him, tears wetting Yazoo's neck. "I wasn't sure – I didn't know – you are our brother – you must see Kadaj – you must meet him, now, he's the Special One – I didn't know!"

"Loz." Yazoo smiled down at the suddenly very talkative boxer; now there was a real bulge between his legs. "I don't want to go anywhere or meet anyone else right now."

"Oh...mmm...you are good..." Loz gasped as Yazoo's hand caressed over his now very interested length.

"I've had practice." Yazoo smiled, but he shivered. He'd never actually felt this way, had never yearned for a touch or felt himself tremble underneath hands and mouth before. He wondered briefly if this was how his clients felt when looking at him. That would almost make sense out of the silly concept of buying sex, because Yazoo knew he's pay to feel this way.

But he didn't have to; Loz was pulling at his clothes, tearing them off, his hands and fingers caressing every inch of pale flesh as if to memorize it; when he finally turned Yazoo around and down on the couch, Yazoo threw his arms around the strong neck, not wanting to wait another second. His nails dug into marble-hard shoulders and neck and the sounds that escaped him was pure, needy moaning. For a second he felt a sneering contempt at the other men he'd fucked; how could they possibly have believed the sounds and motions he was making then to be real? Now that Yazoo for the first time made them without any faking, he was stunned at the difference.

Green cat eyes locked into green reptile eyes; silver hair blending on pale shoulders.

"It's like a fetish," Yazoo didn't realise he'd groaned it out loud until he saw Loz's questioning glance. He shook his head. "Not now. Later."

Loz didn't argue.

Afterwards, and how many hours had passed Yazoo didn't know or care, they slumped tiredly on the couch. Loz purred contently, draped his strong arms around Yazoo and pulled him close, so close there was no space between them, touching the long slim back tenderly.  
>Exhausted and with still not enough blood being located to his brain, Yazoo realised that this must be snuggling. Cuddling. He'd never done this before; it wasn't a request he'd ever got, and he felt almost a bit shy and clumsy as he put his arms back around Loz's neck, caressing the hair. Loz hand slid gently over his back, his arms, pulling him closer and this to was an odd feeling; as if Loz didn't just want his body, but *him*.<p>

"There's a bed in the other room," Yazoo mumbled, the faint thought of getting up and getting clean crossing his mind.

"Mnf." Loz answered, already drifting off to sleep, his face buried in Yazoo's hair.

Seconds later, Yazoo sighed, pushed his face against Loz's collar bone and fell asleep as well.

He woke in the middle of the night, alone. Sudden dread coursed through him – but no, he could hear feet shuffling over the carpet. Maybe Loz just needed to use the bathroom.

But then Yazoo heard him speaking, in low whispers:

"I'm so sorry, Kadaj! Are you alright? Are you sure? I'm so sorry!" There was a long pause. "I know. I didn't mean to. But I found...our brother found me, and I'm…I'm at his place now." Another pause, and Yazoo realised sleepily that Loz was talking on a cell phone. With his little brother? Must be. "The Honeybee Inn." Pause. "Yes, the brothel." Pause. "I know, he *is* clever! Look, I'm coming right home, alright? I just need to say good bye first…are you sure? Kadaj, are you *really* sure? I don't like leaving you alone this long…Yes. If you say so. We'll be waiting for you." The phone clicked off and Loz returned to the couch, where he slipped down next to Yazoo again, putting those strong warm comfortable arms around him.

Yazoo pretended to be asleep but he felt a sting of jealousy. Whoever this 'little brother' was, it was obvious he had Loz wrapped around his finger. *Whoever you are 'little brother', you'd better be worth him!* Clambering on to the big frame so tightly Loz almost winced, Yazoo could finally fall asleep again. 


	6. Chapter 6

Yazoo woke up the next morning with a perfect face looking down on him, smiling indulgently and caressing a tress of his hair green-dyed hair curiously. He startled in pure shock even as Loz tightened his embrace on him from behind and mumbled in his ear:

"Told you he was perfect."

This was Loz 'little brother', his 'Special One', Kadaj? Yazoo felt his growing jealousy wither and die immediately; he couldn't be jealous Kadaj – it would be like being jealous at God. Mother was almost singing with joy in his mind and Yazoo felt as if something clicked into place in his soul, something that said 'complete.' He knew his brothers felt the very same thing, as emotions so strong they were almost tangible swirled between them.

A half-hard cock rubbed between Yazoo's buttocks, and he shivered with pleasure even though he was annoyed at the distraction.

"You can do that later, Loz." Kadaj rolled his eyes. "Go get us some breakfast instead. I need to talk to Yazoo."

Loz didn't argue, and Yazoo understood; when Kadaj ordered it wasn't something that was debateable. The biggest brother untangled himself, gave Yazoo a kiss on the neck and Kadaj one on the mouth and got up to start dressing. Neither Yazoo nor Kadaj spoke until he'd left the room, happily whistling.

"What is Mother telling you?" Kadaj cocked his head, watching him.

Yazoo sat up in the couch, aware but untroubled that he was naked. Such embarrassment was for humans, and anyway, what did he have to be ashamed over?

"That you are the one I've been looking for, the one I should help in any way I can. The one I should die for."

He shuddered a bit, but a slim arm was put around his neck, gentle fingers caressing his dyed hair.

"You know, Loz never asked me what Mother tells me about you." Kadaj's breath was slightly cooler than a humans would have been in Yazoo's ear, fresh and clean. "She tells me that you are pieces of her and that I should treat you as such. With care. With respect. With love."

"I'm guessing Loz never asks very much of you at all." Yazoo pulled his hands through his hair, instinctively leaning his head against Kadaj's shoulder. *Pieces of Mother? I've never thought of it like that.* "But I'm not Loz."

"Good. One of him is sufficient." Kadaj had the same beautiful eyes, uncovered, as Loz and he did, Yazoo reflected. *Aren't they afraid people will talk?* "And though he has his uses –" Kadaj grinned wickedly "- some of which I suspect you already found out, I need more. I need someone to help me *think*. And plan. Someone who knows things, and can get me information."

Yazoo watched him in silence, breathing the scent of the Special One, deeply impressed. Kadaj answered his doubts almost quicker than Yazoo could put words to them. He couldn't even have known that Yazoo existed until late last night and yet he'd already worked out a strategy to sooth him – even known that he'd needed soothing, that getting your life's dream could be frightening.  
>Such planning wasn't something Yazoo had ever done, or could do very well. He took in information, sorted it and understood it and acted logically after it. He'd become a prostitute because it was obvious he'd make easy money on it, he'd started working for the Honeybee Inn because that way he'd get much better conditions than if he'd been working alone, but that was it. He hadn't planned it. He didn't intend to go anywhere particularly – although if he did get a better offer, he'd weigh the pro's and con's and make the best choice under the circumstances. He just reacted to what the world told him.<p>

Kadaj was different. He had a goal, and a plan to get there. He wasn't going to let the world tell him what to do – he'd force his own will on it.

It was a much, much different power than Loz's pure raw strength, but it was at least as attractive. Yazoo nodded, rubbing his face against that smooth shoulder. He wanted more of this brother, but now wasn't the time. *Damn it...*

"I have to resign my job here. I'd better do it proper, if I just disappear there might be questions and we don't want that."

"Mm. I guess that's for the best." The perfect face leaned of his, and Yazoo trembled slightly as lips pressed against his. He suspected his thoughts from last night was correct – a fetish, indeed. But that meant...

"I need to wash out the dye," he muttered as he sat up reluctantly.

Kadaj frowned, but shrugged away the odd comment.

"I'll wait here for you. Loz should be back soon with breakfast. We can eat something before we pack your things."

Yazoo nodded and threw on a bathrobe; he was half way off the couch when Kadaj's hand grabbed a handful of his hair. Surprised, Yazoo turned around only to be met by a hot, hard kiss; he fell to the floor on his knees, really trembling this time as Kadaj plundered his mouth.

"Hurry up." Kadaj said with a smile as he finally let Yazoo up for air. "I want to get you home soon."

Too breathless to speak Yazoo nodded, hurried to his feet and readjusted the bathrobe before almost running out the room.

Kadaj hadn't been alone in the room for more than a few minutes when there was a hard, demanding knock on the door. Frowning – neither Yazoo nor Loz would have bothered knocking – he went over to open.

He stared up into an angry face of a man in a pin-striped suit, golden chains around his neck and eyes blazing with fury.

"Who the hell are you? Where's Yazoo?" The man could easily see over Kadaj's head and into the empty room.

"He's not here." Kadaj didn't feel like giving this man any information, and tried to close the door.

"I can see that, you imbecile!" The man growled and his greedy eyes settled on Kadaj's lithe body. "He owes me for yesterday! I paid for him, and I'm going to fuck him! Who are you?"

"I'm his little brother." Again, Kadaj tried to close the door; where were the guards? There had been guards here yesterday, he'd had to sneak in by the window. But they were gone now, bribed away or by order not to interfere with don Corneo's men.

"Really?" The man suddenly grabbed him by the throat, pushing him back into the room and kicking the door shut behind him. His eyes where alight with malice. "Then you can pay his damn debt, boy – or parts of is anyway." His free hand roamed Kadaj's body under the simple clothes. "'Cause i figure you're not as good as he is, are you? Can you scream as prettily as he can?"

Kadaj's hand slipped behind him, to the long knife he wore at the lining of his trousers. He smiled.

"I don't...know how to scream prettily." He said hoarsely through the grip on his throat. "You'll have to teach me."

When Yazoo came back the room was a mess. Blood had splattered over the furniture, the carpet and Kadaj who stood smiling innocently with a broken knife in his hands.

Yazoo sighed.

"It's a good thing almost anything in this room is easy to wipe clean," he muttered and poked the dead man. "Oh, him again. This will cause trouble. We'll need to get rid of the corpse."

"Why bother?" Kadaj dried himself off on some Kleenex.

"Because he works for the most powerful man in the slums – don Corneo. There will be questions."

"Hmm. I see."

Both spun around as the door opened again, but it was just Loz with his hands full of take away coffee and toasted cheese-and-ham sandwiches. He stared down at the dead man on the floor and his eyes misted over.

"You could have waited with playing until I was back!"

After a quick breakfast they wiped the room clean, wrapped the body in the carpet and hauled it out the window, hoping to at least divert attentions a little bit. Staying around now would be a bad idea, so Yazoo didn't get more than a few clothes with him before they hurried away.

"We'll pick up the rest of your things later, when we knows what happens with the body," Kadaj promised as they hurried Yazoo to his new home.

Yazoo looked around the tiny shed; there were maps and notes everywhere, old boxes of take away food here and there and on any surface left there were Loz' mechanical gadgets.

"This place," he said with a slight twitch of his nose, "is a dump."

Loz looked crestfallen, but Kadaj looked around the place and shrugged.

"It's not important."

Yazoo looked down on the filthy bed and shuddered.

"If it's not important, then you won't mind me cleaning it up, do you?"

"I guess not. Just don't move any of my work around"

"Good." Yazoo gathered up the dirty laundry, dumped it in an old abandoned cardboard box and handed it to Loz. "There's a Laundromat a few blocks from here, next to that new place that sells fake jewellery. Get this cleaned up, then meet me back at my old place and help me get some things back here before the place gets raided."

"But…I don't know how to work a Laundromat!" Loz protested.

"It's a *machine*. You are good with machines, right? You'll figure it out."

"Um…I guess. Um…Yazoo? Do I have to use this box for the clean stuff?"

"Why?"

"Used to be a corpse in it. Smells kind of funny."

"Oh. Well, no I guess."

Kadaj smiled as Loz hurried away and gave Yazoo a piercing glance.

"Do you intend to try and boss me around like that to, dear brother?"

Yazoo shook his head, green hair flying. With supple grace he fell to his knees, resting his head on Kadaj's lap.

"Loz likes orders. I know his type. He needs to feel important but he doesn't know what to do to be useful if there's no one around to beat up. I might be bossing him, but it makes him happy." Yazoo sighed happily as Kadaj petted his hair. "You are very different. You are in control. You give the orders."

"And what about you?" Kadaj's smile grew wider as Yazoo rubbed his face against the leather-clad groin.

"I enjoy both giving orders and receiving them." Yazoo purred, green eyes glittering at Kadaj. "If they're the right orders."


	7. Chapter 7

Yazoo met up with Loz outside the Honeybee in, and the guards let them in. Yazoo's room was his own, after all, and he'd bought some of the things himself; he was entitled to collect his things if he did it quickly.

"Hey, Yazoo." One of the guards greeted him; Yazoo knew him as someone he'd done a few 'favours' once in a while – it was sort of expected by the whores and one of the pro's of working as a guard there. This guy was decent enough and had never tried to push him into anything. "Are you in trouble, or something?"

"Not that I know. Why?" He tilted his head.

"Some guys found a dead body outside the Honeybee in just a few hours ago. And we heard you quit here without any prior warning."

"This is the slums. What's another dead body?"

"It's a lot when it's one of the don's men. But don't worry, no one here thinks you've done it." The guard leaned forward in a conspiratory whisper. "Not when there's *Turks* here!"

"I…see. Thank you." It always surprised Yazoo how some men became so attached to the source of their occasional orgasm that they'd rattle about any kind of sensitive information, but he wasn't complaining about this human weakness. "I will hurry up and get my things then."

His head was buzzing with thoughts as he hurried to his room, Loz trailing behind, but he pushed them back as he stepped inside. He'd give the information to Kadaj; he'd know what to do with it.

There wasn't much they could bring, but there wasn't much Yazoo wanted anyway. He felt no attachment to objects as such, but there were a few things that could make their life easier. Ordering Loz around, he had some clean sheets and bedding put in the box, some soap and a few toiletry items, basic things. And then a few he might need if he was to use his charms on humans again.

"And what is this?" Loz held up a small, fragile looking bottle. "Do you need this?"

"It's perfume. It's to make me smell better to my customers." Yazoo loaded towels into a corpse-free box.

Opening the bottle, Loz smelled it and wrinkled his nose.

"Ugh! You don't need this stuff, Yazoo! You smell much better all by yourself." He put the bottle back, careful not to break it and risk spreading the stink.

Yazoo's smile grew mock-coy.

"Really? And where do I smell good?"

He dropped the box as Loz pushed him against the wall, harshly but not brutally, the display of power going like a surge of heat to Yazoo's groin. Writhing, he leaned his head back, exposing the vulnerable throat as Loz rubbed his face against the neck.

"You smell good here," Loz mumbled in a thick voice; still pinning Yazoo to the wall he started to move down, his free hand pushing aside cloth as he buried his nose in Yazoo's armpit. "And here." Freeing one of the caught hands, Loz sniffed his wrist: "And here."

Opening up the clothes, he moved down until he was kneeling in front of a panting Yazoo, and rubbed his face against his brother's quickly hardening groin, inhaling deeply.

"And here…you smell like Kadaj. Which is also good."

He was a bit surprised when Yazoo took his face between long-fingered hands and pulled it up, his green eyes shining wickedly.

"Come. There's something I want to show you."

They'd never actually made it into the bedroom last time, but Yazoo passed by the large bed to open a closet, huge enough to walk into.

"Holy Mother!" Loz swore as Yazoo swung the doors open. "What is all this?"

"My outfits. One for every occasion." Yazoo slid his fingers down a long silky thing and then ripped if to the ground, staring disapprovingly at the fabric. "If they wanted a woman, why didn't they just go to one?" he mumbled to himself with an arched eyebrow.

"Because you are a lot more beautiful than any woman, of course." Loz shrugged the compliment as if he was simply telling a truth – and Yazoo knew that to him it was. It made more heat pool in his loins.

"It's not that simple, always. You know what a fetish is?"

"It's when you get turned on by a special thing, right?" Loz fingered some of the stuff in the closet, fascinated by the sheer amount.

"Yes. And sometimes it gets to the point where a person can't get aroused unless that object is there. Boots. Red lipstick. Uniforms." Yazoo watched his brother find his way to the things Yazoo had meant to show him, eyes getting huge. "Cat-eyes. Silver hair."

Loz spun around.

"Really? You think so?"

"It would make sense." Yazoo went pass him and took down the objects Loz had been absentmindedly stroking. "But that doesn't mean there aren't a few other things I'd like to try out." Teasingly, he held up the black leather boots that looked like they'd go to Yazoo's thigh. Loz's breathing sped up a bit.

"Put them on," he urged.

"Not now." Yazoo put the boots down in the box and took down a pair of handcuffs. A small noise that was almost a whimper escaped Loz and Yazoo smiled to himself. "There isn't time to play properly here and now." A black corset with so many straps and bonds went in the box and a drop of sweat ran down Loz's forehead. "And anyway…I want both you and Kadaj as playmates tonight."

If pure physical control hasn't been Loz's strongest side, he'd probably had come right then.


	8. Chapter 8

"Kadaj, there's Turks in the slums. Maybe we should consider moving on." Yazoo said as he and Loz carried in the boxes.

"Turks?" Kadaj frowned.

"ShinRa henchmen. Assassins, spies...they do whatever is needed to sustain ShinRa power."

"ShinRa..." absentminded, Kadaj rubbed his tattooed forearm, frowning as he was thinking hard.

"So they're a bit like the don's men?" Loz said, eagerly unpacking Yazoo's toys.

"Yes and no. ShinRa is incomparably much more powerful than don Corneo. His power ends where Wall Market ends – ShinRa controls everything important in the world.

"But in here, the don is still the power factor." Kadaj said, tearing a bit at his hair without paying it much attention. "Are these Turks after us?"

"I don't know." Yazoo shook his head. "But they'll get whatever they're after here, even if it's from the don himself."

"Hey Kadaj, look at this!" grinning, Loz held up something with leather and straps, but Kadaj wasn't even looking up.

"Not now, Loz. I need to think about this." He stared down at his maps and charts, that familiar, worrisome frown on his face. Loz gave Yazoo a pleading glance, but the long haired brother only shrugged and smiled faintly.

"Do you mind if me and Loz play?" he asked with silky-smoothness.

"No, just don't disturb me."

With a slow swirl of his hips, Yazoo got up and sauntered over to Loz, taking the piece of clothing from him. Loz let himself be pushed down sitting on the bed, eyes getting wide as Yazoo slowly stripped of his clothes. From the corner of his eye, Yazoo could feel Kadaj casting glances at him, but he was careful not to look at his youngest brother.

By the time he was naked, Yazoo knew he'd distracted Kadaj even if he still pretended to look at his maps. But Yazoo had only started.

"Put these on me." He put his long leg up on the bed, next to Loz who was positively shivering with arousal.

"Mnmn!" And was obviously quite past words already, as he helped Yazoo into the tight fitting, skin-hugging boots, sliding the zipper carefully up the tender inside of Yazoo's thigh.

"Not yet." He smiled wickedly as Loz started to move big hands over his hips. "First this."

The corset had unreasonably many buckles but Loz obediently buckled all of them as it meant carefully touching Yazoo almost everywhere. Kadaj's face was turned towards the maps, but his attention was obviously not.

"And this." Yazoo handed Loz a silk choker and sat down on his lap, one long leg on each side of Loz's hips. The callused hands shivered as they put it around Yazoo's long neck; not too tight, not too loose. Kadaj was almost staring straight at them now.

Yazoo smiled; this was too easy. Whiles his brothers might not be virgins, they were most certainly less experienced than he was. Oh yes, he could take them to heaven through hell and all the way back again...

Suddenly he was on his back, Loz leaning over him, green eyes burning with a desire that made all of Yazoo's blood want to pool in his groin at once.

"You," Loz growled like a hungry predator, "are not going to go *anywhere* for hours!"

...or maybe it was the other way around? He reached hungrily for Loz who moved down over him and...

"Stop." Both Yazoo and Loz froze, their muscles literally freezing at the command.

"Kadaj," Loz groaned with much more frustration than Yazoo would have ever though his brother would show, "whatever it is, it better the damn important!"

Kadaj smiled and sat down on the edge of the bed. A finger caressed a lock of hair from Yazoo's face.

"You are such a manipulative little bitch, aren't you?" He purred, his voice full of admiration and warmth. And arousal. "I needed to *think*!"

"You needed...some distraction...brother," Yazoo squirmed, trying to get Loz to move over him, but he might as well have tried to move a slab of granite. He'd probably have more success moving a stone.

"M-hm." Kadaj smiled, a wicked smile. "So you know better than me, do you? I think what *you* need, is being showed who's really in charge here. I think what you *need*, brother, is a bit of punishment." The last word was breathed in Yazoo's ear, making him shiver all over, and then shiver again as he saw what toy Kadaj held in his hands. Oh yes, they were *very* fast learners, his brothers...

"I've figured out how to turn this situation to our advantage." Kadaj said as they were lying in a sweaty, exhausted but very satisfied heap a few hours later.

"For Mother's sake, Kadaj, don't you ever stop thinking?" Loz groaned into a pillow, but winced as Kadaj smacked him with a pillow.

"Don't interrupt me!" But he sighed and held them closer."I don't like this, but...It's all for Mother."

Yazoo nodded, and nuzzled closer. His butt was stinging a bit, but it was a good feeling.

"For Mother." He agreed.

"For Mother." Loz sighed and pulled the covers over all three of them. "Tomorrow morning."

"So what do you two want?" don Corneo leaned back on his plush chair, pulling deep on his cigar, little beady eyes looking with different kinds of greed at the two silver haired men that had been granted audience. He wasn't a stupid man; he knew why they had come, or at least why the boxer had done so. The other he was a bit more uncertain of, but he had quite some hopeful ideas.

Yazoo put his hand on Loz's arm before his brother could speak. This required some semblance of finesse to work out properly.

"The boxing world is turning dangerous of late, and not only inside the ring. Last night my brother was attacked on his way home. He managed to beat them off but…" Yazoo shrugged, watching the don under hooded eyes. He had no doubts this would work, the don's eyes hadn't left Yazoo's body since they first came in to the office. "If he was one of your boxers, no one would dare such a thing." His eyes held the don's for a second, big and vulnerable. They easily conveyed the message Yazoo wanted the don to pick up: 'I know it was your men, I know you did it to force my brother into your clutches, but what can I do? I don't want to see him hurt. I'm helpless before your power.'  
>Humans loved that kind of stupidity. It made them feel powerful, and that turned them on.<br>The don was no different.

"Didn't you used to work for me?" He said to Yazoo, who nodded.

"The Honeybee Inn, yes. I quit just the other day. My brother takes care of me now." There really was no point in trying to hide their blood – connection nor any of the other facts. Tell the truth and what you implicated with eyes and body would be interpreted as the truth as well.

"And now you take care of him, right?" The don leaned back. "Alright, we all know I want him to box for me. But he's still an amateur, even if he's talented. I'll take half his profit."

"Half? I got to keep more working as a whore." Yazoo frowned.

"Yeah, well, you were a pro." The don smirked as Yazoo made his pale cheeks flush.

"But I got to take care of my brothers as well. You'll get 25 %." Loz said before Yazoo could stop him, but he had to admit it was a pretty good argument. He just hoped the don hadn't noticed the plural 'brothers'.

"Why don't you go check out the training facilities?" The don steeped his fingers and looked at Loz. "Your manager…brother…and I can finish up this boring haggling."

Loz hesitated and Yazoo was mildly impressed. Loz was a better actor than he'd thought. Or maybe he was just reluctant to let the next scene in their game play out. Yes, Yazoo mused, most likely the last was the truth.

"It's ok." He said calmly. "I can handle this."

"Alright then. See you later."

Not very happily, Loz let himself be led away, leaving Yazoo and the don alone. With feigned nervousness, Yazoo fluttered his eyes.

"Come over here." The don beconed, and reluctantly Yazoo obeyed, walking over to the desk. The don grabbed him by the elbow and pulled the faintly struggling body into his lap. "Well, aren't you a pretty one." He mumbled, stroking the long hair. Yazoo tried to pull back – not much of course, not enough to force the man to actually let him go.

"I'm not a whore anymore." He stated in the silence of the don's predatory grin.

"Sure you're not. You've not been that since what? Last afternoon?" A pudgy hand started to unbutton his shirt, caressing the soft skin.

Yazoo blushed.

"It's not the point. Look, about the profit deal…"

"Yes, how 'bout this?" Another hand grabbed his ass, rather harshly. "Your brother gets to keep that 75 % and you'll start working for me again – just for me."

"I…." Yazoo floundered, casting around for something to say.

"Because like you said, it's a dangerous world, you know. *Anything* could happen to your brother."

Yazoo hung his head in mock defeat. He was in; the nexus of power. Now to find the information Kadaj needed.

Reno sighed when the victim threw up – 'incidentally' all over his own id and documents. People always thought they were so fucking original, as if some puke was going to deter Turks from getting their information. Gaia knew, they'd seen a lot worse.

Not that he was about to put his hands down that sticky puddle of goo unless he really needed to.

"A'right, you can take that out yourself with your fingers, or I can break 'em for you and make you pick them up with your teeth, yo."

"I won't…" The man started, but was interrupted by an EMR shot to the vulnerable little nerve-centred on his elbow. Howling with pain and a numb arm, he fell away.

"Too slow, yo. Rude, pick those thing up." He caught the other Turk's annoyed glance, and shrugged. "At least you got gloves, partner."

Efficiently but not to happy Rude fished out the wallet and a few papers and wiped them off before the stomach acid could corrode something important. Whiles Reno held the client under control, Rude flipped through the information.

"Another one of the don's people. I don't think this will lead to much, Reno. We have to go to the don himself."

"I guess. At least we can tell Tseng we tried, right? Yo," Reno kicked the man on the ground who was still clutching his arm. "What do you know about the murder outside the Honeybee Inn the other night?"

"This is the fucking slums! People die here, you know." The man spat.

"Yeah, but being cut to ribbons ain't that usual even here. What else?"

"Nothing. He was working for the don, but I guess you knew that. I don't know anything else." The man said in sulky fear.

Reno and Rude exchanged a look. Sometimes being a Turk had severe drawbacks on investigations – for one thing people always assumed they were guilty of murder if a corpse showed up when they were around, instead of realising that sometimes the Turks were there to solve the murder.  
>They weren't always, of course.<br>And this time their reason for being here had nothing to do with the dead man at all, but it sure had drawn their attention. Sure, people got murdered here with depressing regularity, but when someone ended up with these many stab wounds it was usually either a vengeance thing or a challenge. Might be some rival gang was challenging the don's authority over the slums. It was worth checking out a bit more, because Tseng would want to know.

"Let's go visit the old pervert then. But I'm telling you, he tries to get into my pants one more time and I'll zap him on the balls."

"What about our mission?" Rude wiped his gloves as clean as they would get on a piece of paper from his pocket and threw it away."

"It can wait. Rookies for Soldier ain't that rare, and I got a gut feeling about this murder. Something ain't right here."


	9. Chapter 9

Rating: will vary, but there will be explicit Remnantcest, violence, mild bdsm and prostitution  
>Summary: Plot, yay!<p>

Yazoo had been vaguely aware of the sound of scuffling, fighting, and a strange electrical zapping sound for some time, but he hadn't thought much of it as he was busy trying to fend off the don's attempts to get into his pants *too* fast. Hadn't this man ever heard of patience? Apparently not, and the don was so distracted with tearing Yazoo's clothes off that he actually jumped high when the doors to his office was kicked open.

"What the Hell?" he snarled, almost pushing Yazoo off his knee and down of the floor; only a quick grab by Yazoo saved some of the Remnants grace and dignity. "Who do you think you…oh, it's you."

"ShinRa needs a word, don Corneo." The tall dark man said, wiping his gloved off the blood stains.

"Yeah, get off that whore, a'right? Playtime is over for now." The red-head gave Yazoo's half-naked chest an appreciative once over glance and winked at him. Yazoo gave him a hooded glance back, and half a smile. He didn't know who these men were, but he knew what they were – the Turks the guard at Honeybee Inn had warned him about. And obviously they weren't after him. So ShinRa wanted to talk to the don? This was almost too good to be true.

"Rude. Reno." The don pushed Yazoo off his lap but gently enough that he caught his footing and tried to regain his dignity. "Do you Turks get lessons in bad timing?" He added testily.

"Nah, if we did we'd have gotten here in like a few minutes, yo." The one called Reno grinned and once more winked at Yazoo. He was really good looking – they both were – and Yazoo found himself wondering if the silver fetish he and his brothers shared wouldn't allow for some toys.

"We need to talk." Rude repeated. "Alone." He added with a nod at Yazoo.

The don didn't look happy but nodded at Yazoo.

"My rooms are just behind here. Get in there and wait for me."

Yazoo shrugged faintly and pouted, poured himself a glass of the don's whiskey that stood on the desk and brought the glass with him, hitching his shirt up just a little bit, making sure all three men could see the deceptively soft curve of his shoulder.  
>He made sure to close the door firmly behind him; it was made of thick wood and no sound would get through it.<br>Normally, that is.

He quickly took a sip of the whiskey, enough to carry the scent on his breath, and poured the rest in a potted plant. Now was not the time to get drunk. Then he put the empty glass between his ear and the door.

"You are losing it, old man." Reno's voice acme through the door and glass. "Someone's killing your people and you're getting distracted by a pretty ass."

"There's no gang strong enough to challenge me." The don said irritated. "That murder was some random freak thing, maybe there's some serial killer loose. It has nothing to do with me."

"Really? 'Cause ShinRa don't like to think they're betting money on the wrong chocobo, you know. *I* think you're losing your grip. Better show you got enough balls to do anything but screwing whores."

"There won't be another murder like that. Why are you here, anyway? You didn't show up until days after the murder. And why are you so interested in that whore?"

"He's pretty. Care to share?"

"You are too late, he's exclusive now." The don's voice got suspicious. "What does ShinRa *really* want in Wall Market?"

"Just checking for new Soldier recruits." This was Rude's voice, almost too dark to be heard. "Routine assignment."

"I see. And I'm guessing you will abuse my hospitality by staying here again?"

"Aw, come on! You weren't complaining last time – I had to chase you out of the shower with my EMR, for fucks sake!"

"Yes, but I got someone better this time." The smugness of the don's voice made Yazoo roll his eyes. "Fine. Stay in that room, I'll have some of my men show you there. We'll all have dinner later and you can tell me more about what ShinRa is up to. And I'll tell you why there is no threat to my organization. But right now I have some…unfinished business to take care of."

"Fine." Chairs scraped against the floor. "See you in a while then."

The don didn't hurry for his room when the Turks left; instead Yazoo could hear him thoughtfully tapping a pen against the desk. A horny old bugger he might be, but not stupid. He must have thought of something Yazoo had missed in the conversation, and that scared Yazoo. He had a nagging feeling something was going on and that it was bad, but he'd need to contact Kadaj because he couldn't see it himself. And he wasn't sure he had enough information even for Kadaj, not yet. That left one more option.  
>Dumping the glass, he hurried out of the room.<p>

"Hi." He smiled softly as he slid into the room – a guest room with a large bed, a desk, several big windows and two Turks giving him a not-very-surprised glance. "I thought you might want some company."

"Really?" The red-head, Reno, drawled, his appreciative glance sliding up and down Yazoo's slim body. Rude was already out of his shirt, probably heading for the shower although he'd turned around now.

"M-hm. Or should I leave?" He lowered his chin, glancing up at them under his eye lashes.

"Nah, not now you got all the way here." Reno grinned, exchanging a glance with his partner. "You wanna have a go, partner?"

"Sure." Strong arms, although not as strong as Loz's, bore down on Yazoo, pushing him back on the bed. He didn't fight it, of course, but threw his own arms around Rude's neck, his breath speeding up a bit. These two were fighters and they were gorgeous, very much unlike most of his former clients had been; he wouldn't mind this much at all. Reno scrambled on to the bed as well, pulling his hands through Yazoo's hair, taking his hand to suck at the fingers, which made Yazoo tingle pleasantly. These two knew what they were doing.

When the handcuff snapped around his wrists, Yazoo didn't think much of it at first – a little light bondage was nothing new. But when the Turks moved off him, he got worried.

"What are you doing?" He asked confused as they started to pull on their clothes, but they ignored him.

"The Hell is the don up to if he's this desperate to distract us?" Reno grumbled. "It has got to have something to do with that new boxer recruit."

"Too bad." Rude threw a last, longing look at the now thrashing Yazoo and gave an almost apologetic shrug. "Business before pleasure, I'm afraid." He turned back to Reno. "He's not going anywhere for a while. I don't think we need to gag him – these rooms are pretty soundproof. The boxing hall?"

"Yeah. Hurry up!"

The all but ran out of the door and Yazoo swore vehemently, real fear gripping his heart. He had to get free…fortunately, handcuffs weren't meant to keep Remnants. It hurt, but it wasn't very difficult to move his thumb out from its socket and glide the hand out of the steel band. He threw himself at the cell phone.

"Kadaj! The Turks are coming. I think they're after Loz!"

"What the Hell do you think you are doing here?" An angry voice said from the door and Yazoo spun around to see the furious don and two guards standing there.

At the same time there was a sudden spark of surprise from Loz over the emotional bond the brothers shared and then just darkness.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Woah…I never thought this series would end. It got almost as long as A Dark Moon Rising!

Here we are, born to be kings  
>We're the princes of the universe<p>

We've come to be the rulers of you all

~Queen

"He must weigh a fucking ton!" Reno grunted as he tried moving the pale unconscious boxer up on the board of the little truck. "Give me a hand here."

"Well, big and stupid is the way the Soldiers like their recruits." Rude grabbed the other arm and helped to hoist up the limp body. "And he was a good fighter, in the ring. Good thing you zapped him before he saw us coming."

"Yeah." They drew the unmoving boxer further up on the board and moved around him to secure the many straps and cuffs that would keep the boxer secure. "Doesn't he remind you of someone?"

"That whore at the don's must be a brother or something. Come on, let's get out of here before the don's people arrive."

"Better to apologize than ask for permission, right?" Reno grinned. "I'll drive."

When Loz woke up his body was aching from being rattled against the hard metal as the truck wound its way over the bad terrain, but his head felt numb from the neck up. All he remembered were sparkles and then he'd blacked out. *Clever weapon. I want one of those.* He thought distracted, trying to keep his head from bumping too much against the truck's board. He pulled at the cuffs but he had no leverage at all; he was spread eagled to the board like an insect to a plate.

"Hey, yo." A hatch opened from the driver's part of the truck and a red head stuck out. "You a'right back there?"

"My brothers," his voice was raw and his tongue felt thick, "will kill you."

"He'll be alright." The hatch was closed again

Yazoo stared at the don, the guards, their weapons and guns held ready. He still held the phone in his hand and he could vaguely discern Kadaj's voice on the other end:

"Yazoo? Yazoo! I'm coming." The phone clicked off, killing Kadaj's concerned voice.

The don took a step closer, fury in his eyes as he took in his whore's disheveled appearance, the lack of shirt, the handcuffs still at the bed, the phone.

"I knew it. You are a ShinRa spy!" He hissed. "And you know what? I'm betting you're the one who killed my employee as well. Was that part of that fucking president's plan? Is he trying to replace me?" The don grabbed Yazoo's chin, hard enough to bruise. "You will answer me, you little ShinRa shit, one way or the other!"

So many things ran through Yazoo's head; he could see very clearly where this where going. He'd get beaten up, probably raped and tortured and he could let it happen as he'd done in similar situations before. He could take it, he knew that. And then to escape, with a minimum of fuss and attention. It was the clever, logical thing to do.  
>But…<br>Loz was lost and Kadaj was on a rampage. There was no need to keep his cover anymore.  
>In a sudden cascade, he saw all the men who'd used and abused him before him instead of the don's puffy, angry, red face and all his logical thoughts were stripped away leaving one, simple, cold, vengeful feeling.<br>*Finally.*

With almost no effort he tore the don's grasp from his face. The guards took an involuntary step back as green eyes flashed. Yazoo didn't know it, but as he smiled he looked a lot like his oldest brother, not Loz, but his *oldest* brother.

"Don't ever," he purred, "think to associate me with ShinRa."

The motorcycle that sputtered and whined up to the stairs of the Honey Bee Inn was so big it made its driver look tiny, but Yazoo had no problems recognizing his brother as he ran out of the brothel, shaking his head to rid the long hair of blood; it was a good thing bodily fluids and other things simply ran right out of it without leaving stains. Two guns were stuck down his belt.

"Can you drive?" Kadaj asked and slid back as Yazoo nodded; he put his arms around his brother's slim waist as Yazoo revved up the engine. He didn't have to ask if Yazoo was alright, except their shared worries about Loz, there was a sense of utter *content* that almost made Yazoo purr.

"The Turks took Loz. They must have." Yazoo drove the bike through the crowded streets with reckless abandoned; people jumped away or were pushed aside. "They talked about him."

"They'll be taking him back to ShinRa! We have to stop them before they get there. Someone will recognize him." Kadaj's arms squeezed a bit tighter. "Someone from the science department."

Yazoo nodded. Kadaj's strong arms squeezed him uncomfortably hard for a few seconds before the youngest brother could relax.

"I'm not going to let that happen." Kadaj vowed quietly. "I'm not."

"I know." Yazoo pushed the bike as fast as it could go; they tore out of the slums and on to the bad roads leading up towards Midgar proper.

"What about the don?" Kadaj asked over the roaring engine; Yazoo drove the bike like he did everything else – with a grace and elegance that made it look simple. Kadaj's brilliant but unstable mind was already processing and learning the moves. Again he could feel the pure, wicked sense of being pleased with himself that temporarily overrode Yazoo's worry for Loz.

"Let's just say I think the don will be allowing for women only in the future."

"You left him alive?"

"Oh, yes. Very much alive. Just not very happy about it."

Kadaj grinned, rubbing his face against Yazoo's back.

"I'm glad for you."

Reno saw the motorbike with its two pale figures come tearing out of nowhere at a speed even he would have considered reckless (if fun). It overshot the truck easily, turned in a cloud of dust and sped back, straight towards the truck.

"What the fuck, yo?" He swore as the bike sped straight at him. "Rude, I think we got company!"

"What do they think they're doing?" Rude shook his head. "It's not as if we're going to stop or steer aside. And this truck weighs five time as much as that bike!"

"Well, I ain't cleaning off the blood from the truck this time." Reno grumbled and checked that the windshield wipers worked, just in case. "It's your turn." He stepped on the pedal and the truck took a jerky jump forwards, gaining speed.

The Turks had seen a lot of things, but both of them dropped their jaws as the bike jumped, gracefully clearing the truck and landing behind it. There was a muffled sound from the boards.

"Shit, one of them jumped off! What the Hell are they; Soldiers?" Reno wrestles with the wheel. "Get out there, get him off! I'll call for air support!"

Rude nodded, broke the window and started to climb out as Reno frantically pushed the buttons on his phone.

The gun shattered the chain holding Loz down and with one arm free he had enough leverage to tear the other bonds off himself and get up on the shaking board.

"Are you alright, Loz?" Kadaj shouted over the roar of the engine.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm - no!" He threw himself over Kadaj as bullets started tearing through the air all around them. Hanging half way out the window, the dark Turk fired after them but Yazoo had turned the bike again and was returning fire. Loz grabbed the gun from Kadaj and Rude was forced to withdraw. But he soon returned, holding something big and heavy in his hand.

"That's a grenade!" Kadaj scrambled up on his feet. "We have to get off! Yazoo!"

The motorbike closed in, shooting at the tires even as Loz and Kadaj jumped onto it and Rude threw the grenade. The truck swerved aside as the tires exploded and the grenade missed both truck and the crowded motorbike; it tore a huge hole in the ground, throwing both unstable vehicles aside. Loz, sitting furthest back on the bike, took most of the brunt force of shockwave and raining gravel whiles Yazoo fought the motorbike not to be thrown off and Kadaj hung on to both his brothers for dear life. The bike skidded from side to side but straightened up.

Reno didn't manage as well; the truck no longer had any tires on its right side and the explosion was too close; it tore the board of the truck to pieces and the truck was thrown aside, smashed against an abandoned building, and fell over, tearing up old asphalt in an oil cloud of smoke. The two Turks could only watch as the motorbike sped off in the distance and disappeared.

Reno groaned as he crawled out from the driver site and on to the curve.

"You alright, partner?" He tried to sit up. "I should have brought the chopper."

"Yeah" Rude sighed and rubbed his head. "But the next time we meet those guys, I'm bringing a rocket launcher."

"Fuck that." Reno put his head in Rude's lap and closed his eyes, waiting for the air support. "Bring some TNT. Lots of it."

Loz's wrists and ankles were torn, his back and shoulders bloodied by the peppering of gravel from the explosion. Kadaj's shoulder was torn where a bullet had graced it and Yazoo was bruised all over from fighting the motorbike. It didn't matter. None of it mattered. They had gotten away, together, fought together for the first time and won together for the first time.  
>In the rush of adrenaline that came from being alive and together and *winning* they didn't care about scrapes and bruises as they fell down together on the dirty floor of an old shack, lust turning almost frantically to feel and touch and be near, to taste and please and be *alive* once more.<p>

Voices, breathless with want and need and love and lust echoed out on the empty streets, so entangled it would have been impossible for any passerby to discern them. But in there run-down area, there where no one around to hear.

"Say you want me?" A pleading.

"Want you…"

"Want you…"

"Say you need me?" A moan.

"Need you."

"Need you!"

"Say you'll never leave me…" A prayer.

"Never. Never leave you."

"Never, ever."

And in the cold, falling dusk, maybe it didn't matter whose voice said what, only that they were together.

The End


End file.
